


A Trace of Pleasure or Regret

by danceswithgary



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, M/M, Podfic, Podfic Available, Pre-Slash, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:29:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A city exploration turns out to be quite revealing.<br/><a href="http://www.audiofic.jinjurly.com/trace-of-pleasure-or-regret">Podfic by reena_jenkins</a>!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trace of Pleasure or Regret

"Every time we get a chance to come down here, I can't help hoping that we'll find something as cool as you-know-what, and then I think maybe it's not such a good idea after all…." Rodney's voice trailed away, and John watched his shoulders hunch inward as if Rodney were reliving Elizabeth's chilly reprimand for playing with people's lives, though she'd been gone for nearly a year.

Hoping to shift Rodney out of his well-worn melancholic groove, John nudged him hard enough for a squawked complaint about almost dropping his tablet. "Lighten up, McKay. We've found some pretty useful stuff down here before. That's why Carter signed off on the request, right?"

"Well, Sam is aware of my track record when it comes to alien technology." John rolled his eyes when Rodney preened as if she were standing in front of him.

"Right." John deliberately slipped into the drawl he knew would irritate Rodney. "Does make you wonder why she's letting us walk around without backup."

Engrossed in the map he'd found buried in the database, Rodney let the teasing slide and turned right at the intersection. "It should be just ahead. I just wish the Ancients were more reliable with their inventory lists. I hate wasting time on a room emptied out when they left the city."

"Only one way to find out." John stepped in front of Rodney to make sure he was first across the threshold when the door opened. He whistled in wonder when the lights snapped on to reveal a great deal more than he'd expected. "Okay, definitely not empty."

Rodney shoved John out of the way. "Jackpot!" Immediately dropping his tablet on the closest shelf, he opened a spreadsheet to log his findings. "I knew this was going to be worth the trip." He scrubbed his hands together in satisfaction and starting typing, muttering under his breath as he looked down the first aisle of the storeroom.

Resigned to being invisible for the next few hours, John walked along the aisles estimating the number of different items on the shelves. His most recent adventure under alien influence was a reminder not to touch anything - or even think the word 'on' - but that didn't prevent him from speculating what some of the odder shapes might be since Ancient configurations did not always hint at function. When he was halfway down the third row, an odd noise stopped John in his tracks, and he was hurrying back to the entrance even before he heard Rodney's sharp intake of breath.

As John turned the corner, his P-90 in position, he caught sight of Rodney frozen in place, his arm raised and his hand resting on an ornately carved silver oval. As he got closer, John could see faint movement in what seemed to be a mirror at first glance, but it soon became apparent the image was no reflection. Trapped behind smoky glass, shadowed figures melted together inside a mist-filled room, translucent equations and elegant parabolas swirling, slicing through the mist to alternately reveal then conceal faces and forms. Lacking a corporeal target and worried by Rodney's complete lack of movement, John lowered his gun to reach out, tapping Rodney's shoulder and asking, "Hey, buddy. You all right there?"

With a shuddering moan, Rodney dropped his arm and stepped back, shaking his head as if he were trying to wake up. Relieved, John glanced at the oval again and froze when he registered the image, a near-pornographic still with himself as the subject, his back against a wall. The angle was from below looking up, John's head and nude upper body visible, his eyes closed and his mouth parted in an expression he'd never personally seen. John had no difficulty intuiting his position as one of erotic pleasure, although he had no idea if he'd been alone or with someone or how the evidence existed. "What the hell, McKay?"

Rodney's answer was a choked-off, "Oh," and John lurched forward to intercept Rodney's shaking hand before he could touch the damn thing again, but then John's fingers brushed the frame instead and he fell into…

…the sky, the familiar controls under his hand, the instruments on the panel confirm what he's feeling. It feels so right swooping, dancing along the invisible air currents, grinning because his passenger is white-knuckling his seat but is still there, always next to, always with John, grumbling through his fear. They rise together to the stars, the yoke transforms inside his fists to a different configuration as he laughs at the stars and complaints in equal measure. The dark expands then contracts to a black duster on a poster zooming out to John's room, and he knows where this is going and it can't because Rodney is standing next to him at the same time he's stretched across John's bed and no…

…"No!" John jerked his hand away and stumbled backward, panting hard, as if he'd just finished his morning run with Ronon. "What the hell is that thing?" Wincing at the scene he'd left behind, Rodney exposed under glass, naked want in blue eyes, John almost reached out again, but then he decided he'd already exposed enough secrets for one day and he shouted, "Off!"

~//~ 

After a week minus Rodney, John had concluded it was going to be up to him to end the avoidance game. He didn't say a word, simply smiled when Rodney opened the door, then he walked inside to set his duffel on Rodney's desk. Snapping on a latex glove liberated from the infirmary, John unzipped the bag to pull out the not-a-mirror. Rodney's stunned gaze rested heavy on John's shoulders as he carried the oval to the bed and placed it face up. Finally satisfied with the arrangement, John removed the glove and then sat, deliberately leaving room for Rodney to join him on the opposite side. When Rodney missed the blatant hint, John coaxed him closer with a come-hither grin.

A few moments later, Rodney came.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [McSheplets Prompt 94: Mirror](http://community.livejournal.com/mcsheplets/250874.html) and [BJ Friday Prompt: Dream](http://neevebrody.livejournal.com/215749.html). Song title is a different lyric from 'She' because 'mirror of my dreams' felt too obvious.


End file.
